


More Than I Deserve

by LondonGypsy



Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Break Up, Cheating, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Happy Ending, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Infidelity, M/M, Making Up, Past Relationship(s), Sexy Times, Talking, True Love, no real porn, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christian can't forget the one night fate had granted him and Steve.<br/>Steve can't forget it either.<br/>They both try to ignore it.<br/>But that has never worked before so why should it work now?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than I Deserve

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [One More Shot ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3884221) \- yes, finally managed to finish and post this baby!  
> Hope it makes up for the way OMS ended... 
> 
> As always deep gratitude and lots of love to my darlin Beta [SuperWhoLockGypsyt](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoLockGypsy/pseuds/SuperWhoLockGypsy). What would I do without you!!! Any remaining mistakes are mine.

"Honey, I'm home." Steve couldn't resist that call as he kicked the door shut behind him.

"You're such a dork," his wife said, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling at him. Her blonde hair was twisted into a messy bun that meant she just got up; she was wearing one of his old shirts, which was way too big for her, and made her look even smaller than she already was. Her sleep-soft face brightened as he closed the distance between them and kissed her soundly.

"I missed you," he murmured against her lips, sighing gently as her tiny hands closed around his waist.

"I missed you too," she replied, kissing him back.

He hissed as her clever fingers slid under his shirt, scratching lightly over his back. Leaning back he looked at her, seeing the twinkle in her eyes, the sly smile dancing over her face.

"Why, Mrs. Carlson, I haven't even properly arrived yet," he teased, pulling her closer.

"Well," she smirked, running a warm hand over his back, "let me welcome you home properly then."

Without another word she hooked a finger in the waistband of his jeans and pulled him into the bedroom, giggling happily. Following her willingly, Steve ignored the faint echo of a much deeper laugh in his head.

***

Christian closed the door quietly, trying to avoid the creaky step right behind the entrance. Nevertheless, he held his breath as he heard the clicking of toenails on the floor and a huffed bark.

"Ssshhh, 's just me, buddy," he muttered, crouching down to scrub the dog's ears as it nosed around his hands, yapping quietly. "Good boy, keep it down, 'kay? Don't want to wake mommy, yes?"

Kicking off his shoes he walked into the living room, dropping his bags beside the couch before falling on it. The dog followed him soundlessly, laying its head on his leg, watching him with big eyes. He absently petted its head, murmuring endearments under his breath.

"Chris? Is that you?"

Sofia's sweet voice tore him out of the exhausted daze he'd fallen into and he sat up, squinting as she switched on the small lamp by the door.

"Yeah," he said softly, smiling at her as she padded over to the couch. She gently pushed the furry head out of the way as she climbed onto the couch, curling around him.

"Didn't know you'd be home so early," she murmured, running her hand over his chest. He made a noncommittal sound, and she laughed quietly.

"Tired?"

He nodded wearily.

"Come to bed then."

Shooing the dog away, she stood, holding out a hand to him. Taking it, he stood as well, swaying a bit. Her long fingers entwined with his and wordlessly she led him to the bedroom, the dog like a silent shadow trailing behind them. She slid into bed, watching him as he quickly undressed and then flopped on the mattress. He sighed deeply as he stretched out and she shuffled over, kissing him softly. Smiling he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss before a massive yawn made them both chuckle.

"Sleep, Chris," she whispered, resting her head on his chest. He drifted off, one hand tangled in her dark hair, the image of blond curls behind his closed eyes.

***

Steve was puzzling about in his studio, desperately trying not to think. Usually walking through those doors - shutting out the rest of the world and immerse in his music - worked. Not today.   
He tried playing, he tried writing, nothing helped. Which was why he then moved to the boring and mind-numbing task of sorting through his paperwork.

Bad idea.

He was currently staring at a piece of paper, full of illegible scribbles of his and Christian's handwriting. He still remembered every single moment that had lead to these very lyrics. He could still hear Christian's low curses and his own laugh, could taste the beer they had drunk that night and felt the guitar-strings digging into the tips of his fingers. They had been up all night and had finished the song at sunrise.

Tearing himself out of those memories, he dug through the pile only to find more: half-forgotten lines to songs that had never seen the light of day, barely readable notes on napkins and the back of old receipts. Memories were attached to each and every one of them.

Images flashed through his brain like lightning: Christian's laugh, the lines around his eyes deepening, that crinkle over his nose, that strand of hair bouncing on his forehead, his hands in the air, underlining what he was saying. Despite all the trouble they've been through, they did have their good times. Funny how the brain sometimes suppressed what it didn't want to remember.

Sighing frustrated Steve dropped yet another half finished song into the box, rubbing a hand over his face. His wedding ring caught in the stubble on his chin, and he winced. Since that night with Christian he couldn't stop thinking about him; in the most ordinary situations his face flickered behind Steve's eyes, always smiling, always leaving Steve hollow and yearning. No matter what he tried to tell himself, he felt only slightly guilty. Even though he had cheated willingly on his wife. Even worse, he had wanted to. He had thought, had hoped that night would bring them both closure so they could move on, could finally settle into a new life without each other.

Some old lyrics popped into his head, and he huffed a resigned laugh:

[ _You're a lover I'm a runner, w_ _e go 'round 'n 'round, a_ _nd I love you but I leave you,_ _I don't want you but I need you, yo_ _u know it's you who calls me back here._ ](https://youtu.be/9RWnkuCqmNg?t=2m21s)

Those words exactly described how he felt.But his mind didn't stop there, another set of words followed just ahead:

_[ It was the pleasure of my life, and I cherished every time, and my whole world, and itt begins and ends with you. ](https://youtu.be/tEdez_DXanw?t=2m47s) _

 He cursed quietly and stood, a faint feeling of being trapped rising in his chest. His mind was reeling, was being flooded with more and more memories until he couldn't stand it anymore and he hurried back upstairs. Lana had gone out to get some groceries. They had planned a big 'welcome home' barbecue. Steve had never felt less inclined to be around people.   
The restlessness in him grew and after aimlessly wandering through the house, he shook his head and grabbed his jacket. He needed to get some fresh air, let the wind blow his head clear of those poisonous thoughts.

***

Christian plucked away on the guitar under Wahya's watchful eyes. The dog whined as Christian - for the umpteenth time today - hit a wrong note.

"Sorry, buddy," he muttered, resolutely putting the instrument down. He ran a hand through his hair and buried his face in his palms. Which instantly evoked images of Steve's blissful face surrounded by gloriously disheveled hair and the gorgeously soft glow that only came after sex. His thoughts derailed, and a tiny voice in his head wondered if he wore the same expression after sex with his wife too.

"Stop it, damnit," he growled to himself and stood.

The dog's eyes followed him as he walked over to the window to stare outside. He missed Steve more than he admitted to himself, even more than before they started talking again. He tried to keep him out of his head when Sofia was around but she had noticed that something was different since he came back from England.   
First she had blamed the jetlag but after a few days she had gently wrapped her arms around him and had asked if everything was okay. He had nodded, a bit too wildly maybe. She had kissed him, had smiled an understanding smile and had let him be. When he crawled into bed that night and wordlessly undressed her, she had sighed his name and for a little while he could forget the sunny smile that seemed to occupy his mind far too often.

Wahya barked once, tearing Christian out of his head, and he turned around, meeting Sofia's dark gaze. Walking into the room, she watched him silently, a small frown between her brows.

"Whatever it is that's on your mind, you know you can talk to me, right?"

He nodded instinctively. He knew that. And normally he would have talked to her sooner or later - she was a wonderful listener and gave fantastic advice. But this wasn't something he could discuss with her, even though he had the strange feeling she would understand it. He didn't want to hurt her and as much as his secret tore him apart, he had to keep it. Opening his arms he smiled at her. She walked over and hugged him tightly.

"Oh, before I forget," she said, pulling back a bit, "Eric called this morning while you were in the shower. You're supposed to call him back, he's got news." She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning.

He shook his head, just as clueless as her.

"News of what?"

She shrugged, kissed him and untangled herself from his arms, whistling for the dog. "He didn't say but he sounded pretty excited. Call him and find out?"

Christian nodded and watched as she walked out, the dog on her heels.

***

"Steve, darlin', I'll be off now, might get late, don't wait up."

"Sure thing, babe. Have fun."

Steve looked up from tapping away on his laptop as his wife blew him a kiss and bounced out of the room. Tonight was Ladies’ Night. She did that once a week, going out with her friends, always returning beaming like the sun.  Steve was glad that she had found friends here even though it had taken a while. He knew she still felt like a stranger but slowly she made more friends, her work helping with that. Smiling absently he returned to his task, working for another hour before he couldn't look straight anymore.

Rubbing his aching eyes he leaned back, staring at the screen. His phone was laying next to him and he had reached for it before he noticed what he was doing. Scrolling through the names he stopped at Christian's. They had swapped numbers in London and even though Steve had sworn to delete it again, he just couldn't bring himself to do so. He was sure Christian hadn't done so either. Neither of them had used it yet.   
Although Steve had been close. He'd lost count of how many times he had typed a message and deleted it again. Yes, they had said that they wanted to stay in touch, wanted to see whether they could be friends again. But everything was just too fresh, too painful for Steve. Even though they had parted ways in a friendly manner, he knew that right now he just wasn't able to get in touch casually.

That night had brought back too many reminders that he still felt strongly for Christian. He tried to tell himself differently, desperately tried to forget him but the more he tried, the more persistent those feelings became. Sighing, he dropped the phone back on the desk only to jump surprised as it chimed out. He glanced at it. A new text. From Christian.

He stared at the notification, his mouth suddenly gone dry. They used to have that sort of connection back in the days: one thought about the other, and then he would call or text. It had happened all the time, and they had laughed about that so many times.

Now he sat frozen, feeling somewhat between laughing hysterically and smashing the phone against the wall. The phone chimed with another text and Steve reached out with suddenly shaking hands.

The first message read: _Can I call you_?

And the second: _Please? I have to talk to you._

Steve fell back in his chair, his mind racing. That was exactly what he'd been afraid of. Hearing the man again, in the state he was in, was the worst idea ever.

The phone started to ring. And despite his carefully thought out reasons NOT to pick up, his hand had a mind of its own.

"No point in asking if you don't wait for an answer," he said brusquely, ignoring how his voice broke at the end.

Christian's husky chuckle made Steve grit his teeth. He felt the tell tale twitching inside his jeans. That man had way too much power over him and his libido.

"Just wanted to give you fair warning," Christian said hoarsely.

Steve noticed that he sounded just as wrecked as he felt. It must be something really important if he called like this.

"What is it then?" Steve asked, gripping the armrest of his chair to keep his hand from shaking. He heard Christian clear his throat, a sure sign that he was nervous.

"Just spit it out, Kane." Sometimes the man just needed a kick in the ass, and Steve had always known how to do so.

"Eric called me earlier," he said, sounding more nervous than before, "he's got a gig for me."

Steve frowned.

"That's great, but why do you call me?" He was actually confused.

"Because...," Christian hesitated and Steve heard him take a deep breath, "it's-Dante's-and-I-hoped-you-could-come-and-play-with-me." It came out in one hasty rush and it took Steve a second to sort through it. 

"He got a call from their manager, Eric that is, and he said he knew I had been in town, shooting, and that the show got a second season, which will be shot in Portland too, and how the fans are asking for us and he wanted to know whether I... WE wanted to come back and play there again." Christian stopped his word torrent and exhaled loudly.

Steve sat in speechless shock.

"We could ask the others, get the band back together? If they don't want or can't, it could still be you and me."

Steve was staring blindly ahead, gripping tightly to the phone.

"Steve? You still there?" Christian sounded slightly panicked and Steve nodded before he remembered the man couldn't see him.

"Yeah, still here." He heard Christian inhale relieved.

"So, what'cha say?"

He tried to sound casual but Steve knew him too well to fall for that. He could picture him: phone in his hand, his cheeks reddened with anxiety and excitement, biting his lip, eagerly awaiting Steve's answer.

"I...shit, Chris, that's huge."

Christian was silent, waiting, and Steve knew how much of an effort that was for him.

"I don't know, man," Steve breathed eventually, shaking his head, "I really don't."

Christian made a guttural noise and Steve _felt_ his disappointment, even through the phone.

"Oh," he muttered, "okay. I just thought-"

"I know. It's just... you can't just throw that at me and expect me to say yes," Steve shrugged helplessly, trying to sort through the whirlwind in his head.

"Just... think about it? Eric said, there's no hurry. We won't go back to shooting until next month, and we'll be up there at least two months."

"Okay," Steve said, not knowing what else to say.

Silence filled the line.

"Shall I send you the possible dates? Just a rough outline yet, nothing specific."

"Yeah, sure. But, Chris?" Steve leaned forward, forcing himself to keep his voice steady, "I can't promise anything. I need to think about this."

"Yeah, of course, I know, and I won't force you into anything you don't want but..." His voice trailed off and a coldness spread through Steve at the flat tone.

"I'll think about it," Steve said again, feeling helpless. He hated the hopelessness in Christian's voice but he also couldn't help the deep seated wariness around the man. There had been too many disappointments when it came to Christian.

"Please," Christian whispered, and Steve cringed at that. It was so rare that Christian actually pleaded.

"I'll text you my email and you can send me what you have," Steve said.

"Will do," and so quiet that Steve pressed the phone closer to his hear, "thanks."

Neither of them said anything for a while, only their breathing was heard.

"I've got to get going, man," Steve eventually said although he was reluctant to end the call. It felt good to just hear the other man even though he still stirred all sorts of contradictory emotions in Steve. Some things never changed.

"Okay," Christian said croakily and just as Steve wanted to disconnect the call, he heard a soft "I miss you."

"Bye Chris," Steve said roughly, ignoring the fluttering in his chest, "take care."

He couldn't return the sentiment even though he certainly felt that way. But if he admitted that he missed him too, things would just spiral out of control and he couldn't have that. Cursing loudly, he banged his head against the surface of the desk.

Christian had changed, that much Steve had noticed - hell, even a blind man could see that. And over time they might have become friends again, even with their shared - and complicated - past.  
If his marriage with Lana had taught him anything, it was that he could love more than one person in his life. She had rebuild the man he had been before Christian had left him in pieces. She had sneaked into his heart, silently filled the hole Christian had left there. She didn't know who had broken his heart so badly. She had never asked and Steve had never told her. She didn't need to know. He didn't want to spoil their relationship with an ex-lover she could never compete with.  And Steve had been happy with her. Otherwise he would've never asked her to marry him. He also knew his current situation was his own fault, with nobody else to blame.   
Christian had been a faint memory, a ghost of the past - not forgotten but buried nonetheless - before he had let him back into his bed, and back into his heart. Together they had stoked the ashes of their love, and even though Steve desperately tried to put them out, he was burning brightly again. And he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

Resolutely he pushed all those thoughts away and stood. Besides everything that was going on between them, Christian's offer WAS tempting. But he wasn't going to think about that tonight. He'd sleep on it and then would talk to Lana about it. Only the gig part, of course.

"Tomorrow," he mumbled to himself, powering down his laptop and deliberately leaving his phone next to it as he left the room.

***

Christian flopped back on the couch, exhaling deeply.

"That didn't go too well, did it?" he said to Wahya who was laying in front of the coffee table. One ear came up and his tail wagged hesitantly.

"I tried," he told the dog, "I really did."

"And you'll try again," Sofia said from the doorway, making Christian jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," she said, smiling at him, "that was Steve, wasn't it?"

Christian nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

"So you talked it out, then?"

Christian shrugged.

"Sort of," he grunted, fiddling with his phone.

He hadn't told her much, only that he and Steve had a few drinks together and that he played one song with him. She understood more than she let on, that much he knew. Sometimes she'd cast him a dark look or gave him one of those tiny mysterious smiles that had him attracted to her in the first place. She never gave away what was going on inside her, and Christian loved that about her.   
When they had met, she'd instantly seen that he was heartbroken: he had been drinking a lot back then, letting himself go massively, and only her intervention stopped him from dropping into a bottomless pit. Slowly she had steered him back into normal life, a strong and steady presence by his side, gently guiding him. And when she casually suggested they move in together, he had smiled widely at her and nodded.   
She couldn't replace Steve, and one night Christian realized that he didn't want that. She was unique, she loved him and he had fallen in love with her also without even noticing. And even though they both knew that a tiny part of Christian's heart would always belong to someone else, they had accepted that. She didn't know who it was, and she had never asked. She just took him as he was and that was more than anyone else had ever done. Christian would always be grateful for that.

"That is good," she said, "I hate to see you all gloomy."

He looked at her, forcing himself to really look. She was gorgeous: long dark hair curling around her face, her heritage clearly showing in the lines of it. Clever brown eyes watching him calmly, her full lips curling into a smile as his eyes wandered over her curves, and she canted her hips up a bit.

"C'mere," he rasped, beckoning her over.

She raised an eyebrow at him but walked towards the couch where he took her hand, pulling her down in his lap. He ran a hand over her side and tangled the other hand in her hair. Pulling her into a deep kiss he tried to chase away all thoughts of Steve and his silent phone, laying next to them in the cushions.

*

The next few days passed quickly: the new script arrived and kept Christian busy with learning his lines, interrupted by calls and emails from his co-stars, producers and directors. So it took him a while to realize that he hadn't gotten that text with Steve's email yet. He wondered whether that meant a strict no or whether he was still thinking about it. As tempted as he was to contact Steve, he knew better: if Steve said he'd think about it, he would. Very thoroughly, carefully weighing all his options, taking his time. He'd never rushed into a decision like Christian sometimes did.

Sighing he dropped the script, taking off his reading glasses and stretched. He'd been cooped up on his couch for too long and so he decided to go for walk. He whistled lowly and Wahya instantly appeared at his side.

"Care for a stroll?" Christian asked, smiling involuntarily at the wagging tail of the dog. "Off you go then," he said, opening the front door and watched how the furry body shot past him into the bright day. The sun was burning down and he quickly stripped of his shirt, enjoying the heat on his skin. He wandered along the small driveway that lead from the house to the desolated street, the quiet of the late afternoon soothing his somewhat-jiggly nerves.

The sound of his phone startled him. Pulling it out of his pocket, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Steve.

He exhaled and slid his finger over the screen to answer the call.

"Hey," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Hey."

He sounded far away and Christian pressed the phone closer to his ear.

"About that gig," Steve said, making Christian smile. Straight to the point, he thought.

"Yes?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," and Christian's heart sank.

"Why not?"

Steve snorted.

"You know why."

Christian felt something hot bubble up in his chest and it took him a while to recognize it as anger.

"No, I don't," he snarled, biting his tongue as he heard Steve sigh.

"Yes, you do. Playing together that short after..." he hesitated, and Christian's face heated up, "well, after everything, I don't think we should do that."

"It's just a gig," Christian said harshly, "it's not like we jump straight into bed again."

"That's the thing, Chris, it's never only been about the gigs or the music. It's always been more." He's gotten quieter and Christian had stopped walking, the phone in a death grip against his ear. "It's always been about you and me, about us. About what we both love and I'm not talking music here," Steve continued softly and something in his tone made Christian's knees buckle.

"But we love the music," he murmured helplessly, "always have and it didn't matter what we were to each other. We've always had that in common."

"I know. And for the record, I loved making music with you. I still do. I guess that was the reason why we kept trying instead of admitting that it... that _we_  failed. We've only been great together on stage. Everything else...not so much." He fell silent.

"But you said..." Christian tried to say, the words somehow stuck in his throat.

"I know what I said," Steve sounded annoyed now, "but it's not going to work. It'll be the same all over again. A gig, too much booze, a quick fuck, and then what? Not only would we be cheating, we know it won't lead anywhere. We've been down that road too many times. I can't take that again."

He had talked himself into a rage, and the last was spat down the line with vile, cutting deep into Christian's heart.

"What?" he croaked, his hands going numb and cold.

"You heard me fucking well, Kane. I actually thought I could move on without you, could go back to my life. HAVE a fucking life to begin with. But no, you must ruin that as well."

Christian's legs gave out and he fell on the hard ground, his breath coming in hectic pants. He tried to say something but only a strangled sound left his mouth. Faintly he heard Steve curse.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Look, it's not only your fault. It's mine too. Ah fuck this. I can't do this. I'm sorry, Chris."

It clicked, and the silence was deafening.

Christian kneeled on the ground, desperately trying to breathe through the ringing in his ears. A cold nose nudged him in the neck and without thinking he buried his face in coarse fur, the quiet sob drowned out by a questioning bark. His phone was lying forgotten in the sun.

*

He didn't remember how he got back to the house or onto the couch, staring into nothingness, his hands cold and his heart aching. A warm hand on his shoulder pulled him back into reality.

"Chris? Christian?"

He blinked a few times, tearing himself out of his stupor.

"Hmm?"

Sofia's brown eyes were wide and shimmering. She smiled at him, a worried line around her full lips. "Can we talk?" she asked softly.

"Talk?"

"Yes, talk."

"'bout what?"

She sighed, pushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"About us."

He frowned.

"Why?"

"Because it's not going to work."

She let him process the words and as he opened his mouth to protest, she laid a finger over his lips, shaking her head.

"No, listen for a second. You've been hurt badly in your past, I know that. And while I know it takes time to get over such a loss, I'm not sure you WANT to get over it. Whoever it was who broke your heart, they did a damn good job."

Christian had sat up as she started talking. Her last words had him slump back into the cushions. He rubbed a weary hand over his face.

"That he did," he murmured tonelessly.

Her eyes grew wide, and he could see how she put two and two together. She shuffled closer and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm sorry, darlin', I wish I was the one to make this right."

He froze as she touched him but her embrace was warm and welcomed, and he hugged her back tightly.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured against her shoulder.

She soothed him, caressing his back and pushing some hair out of his face as she searched his eyes.

"We tried and for a while it was okay. But as long as you're still mourning it can't work."

Her understanding strangely hurt more than anger would have and Christian squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard. She scanned his face closely before she asked:

"You still love-," she hesitated only a second, "him?"

Christian shook his head, and then nodded, too weary to keep lying to himself.

"But he doesn't love you anymore?"

He shrugged.

"I thought so but I'm not sure anymore. We...I phoned him a while back and there were things he said... I just don't fucking know."

Her voice was calm and soothing as she asked: "Have you ever talked to him about that? Does he know that you still love him?"

It was so surreal: talking to the woman that had shared his life for the past two years about the ex-lover he couldn't forget.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he blurted out, earning himself a sweet chuckle.

"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."

He shook his head. "I'm a horrible person," he said gravely.

"No, you're not. You're just deeply hurt and no matter how hard you've been trying, you're not over it. You need to resolve that. Can you talk to him?"

He shrugged.

"We didn't talk for years after the," he bit his lip but her steady hand on his arm encouraged him, "after the breakup. We ran into each other a while back and... well-"  He stopped, looking away. He couldn't possibly tell her what exactly happened but by the look on her face she already knew - or at least suspected.

"And you realized you're still in love with him?"

He nodded weakly.

"Talk to him then. Maybe he still feels the same and you can work it out."

He snorted, shaking his head violently.

"Not gonna happen. He, well, he made it pretty clear that there's no fucking chance. Everything has changed. He's married for fuck's sake."

He jumped to his feet, starting to pace the room, words pouring out like water through a broken dam. "Even if things weren't like they are now, it didn't work back then, why should it work now?"

She leaned back, watching him stalk through the living room.

"Because you've changed. You're a different person now, Chris. When I met you, you were such an angry man, blaming anyone but yourself, throwing fits if things didn't go your way. That man isn't here anymore."

He frowned at her. She stood as well and beckoned him over.

"You might not love me like you love him. But there must be something because you listened to me. You've learned and you've become a better man, Chris. And if that's what you'll take from this relationship and make good use of in another, that's all I could've asked for."

Christian stared at her in shock before he wrapped her into a tight hug that made her huff a laugh.

"I don't deserve you," he muttered into her hair, "I don't fucking deserve you at all."

"Yes, you do. You did. But more importantly, you needed me, needed us. At least for a while. Now you don't."

Christian laughed, mainly to keep the tears at bay that threatened to fall.

"You are the most amazing woman I've ever met, and probably ever will meet. You're too damn good for this world," he mumbled, pressing a kiss in her hair.

"Oh hush you."

But he heard how touched she was and he held her closer for another moment before he pulled back, quirking a smile at her.

"Thank you. For absolutely everything."

Her expression was earnest as she nodded.

"No, thank _you_ , Chris. For being honest with me. It's more than most guys would dare to do."

She leaned in and kissed him softly.

"Now go and sort it out. I'll pack up my stuff and-"

"No. stay. As long as you want," he interrupted her, "it's your home too. I'll stay in the guestroom until you find something new."

Her clear eyes roamed over his face and then she nodded.

"That would be great, thank you."

He couldn't hold her gaze and looked away, a little ashamed at the relieved feeling flooding his system. She instantly noticed and took his hand, entwining their fingers.

"We'll manage, Chris, stop worrying about me. To be honest, my feelings for you have shifted a while ago. I love you, yes, but I think it's more like a dear friend than a lover."

His eyebrows shot up and he looked up, finding her smirking at him, those tiny dimples around her mouth deepening.

"It's okay," she said, squeezing his hand, "be grateful that I don't go all jealous girlfriend on you."

She waggled her eyebrows at him, and he laughed, pulling her into a hug again.

"We're so fucking weird," he grinned.

They stood in the middle of the room, smiling at each other, and once more Christian was baffled as to how this extraordinary woman knew just what he needed even before he could even sort through his feelings.

"Stop staring," she said, shooing him off, "just make it right this time."

"I will try, Sofia, I will try."

And this was the first time that he intended to keep his promise at all cost.

***

Steve ignored the glaring notifications on his phone.

Christian had been calling him for the past three days, always three times: in the morning, around noon and in the evening. Every time Steve had muted it and waited until it went to voicemail. He listened to it as soon as possible, knowing full well what an idiot he was.  But he couldn't help himself.   
Christian was like a drug: Steve knew how bad and destructive he was for him, for his well-being and yet he couldn't stay away, always returned like a moth to the flames. He'd been burnt so many times, and even though it hurt to hear Christian's increasingly sad voice, he also knew he wouldn't do anything about it. He couldn't.

Lana had noticed that something was wrong and he eventually had told her about Christian's offer. She had been thrilled to find out that they were talking again, and it had taken Steve all his strength to not yell at her for getting it all wrong. She didn't know, could never know.

"Are you gonna do it?," she had asked, oblivious to Steve's foul mood.

He had shrugged even though he'd made his decision already.

"I doubt it," he had admitted, "things are still complicated."

"But you talked it out, didn't you?"

"Sort of but there's things that a talk won't fix," he had said.

She had rolled his eyes.

"Men."

Steve could barely control the urge to snap at her, and shortly after he had excused himself. He needed to get away from her before he would say something he'd only regret later. To his huge relief she hadn't noticed and only a day later she'd happily announced that she'd been invited to a gallery opening and a consecutive art conference. She had asked whether he wanted to come along but for the first time in their marriage, he had declined. He could use the time alone, try to sort through his jumbled feelings. She was disappointed but he assured her that she would do just fine without him. He took her to the airport and waved after her, ignoring the guilt in his guts.

Returning back to the house, he walked around aimlessly, picking up things and putting them down again, not exactly knowing what to do with himself.   
The doorbell rang. For a second he considered ignoring it, he was in no condition for company. But it rang again, accompanied by knocking against the wooden door. Muttering under his breath he went to open.   
And stumbled back as he saw Christian, fist raised to bang against the door again. Christian lowered his hand, a shy smile flitting over his lips.

"Hi," he said, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

Steve stared at him, the shock of seeing him on his doorstep rooting him to the spot, his mind gone completely blank. But then it kicked back into action and hot fury washed over him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Kane?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

Christian flinched and took a step back, lifting his hands in surrender.

"No need to rip me a new one, Steve, I just wanted to talk to you. Since you're not answering your phone- well, Sandy was happy to hear from me after all this time."

The fury in Steve reached a new high.

"How fucking dare you drag my mother into this shit?" he snarled, his hands curling into fists and only Christian's wide eyes kept him from punching him.

"Calm down, man, I didn't even ask her. She told me where you live now, and I thought... well, I don't know what I thought, really. I just wanted to make things right, Steve. Please."

His shoulders slumped and he looked so devastated, so terribly lost, the burning anger in Steve dissolved a little. He sagged against the door jamb, trying to calm his ragged breathing.

"I fucking hate you," he muttered which made Christian smile briefly.

"No you don't. Otherwise you would've punched me years ago."

Steve snorted.

"Don't make me regret that."

Christian cocked his head, the tiny smile on his lips heartbreaking in its hopefulness. Steve sighed, beaten by its beauty.

"What do you want, Christian?"

"Just one thing," he said. The soft smile vanished, a solemn expression took its place and he squared his shoulders. "A question really. Depending on the answer, I'll be outta here in a heartbeat."

Steve frowned. He had never seen Christian like this: calm and determined with an expression of such vulnerability on his face it hurt to look at him.

"Shoot then," Steve groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

Christian exhaled deeply, visible steeling himself.

"Do you still love me?"

The question hung in the air between them, and it took Steve a few moments to actually process the words. When they registered, all the air escaped his lungs.

"What?", he choked, gripping the door jamb for support because his knees wanted to give out on him.

"Do you still love me?" Christian repeated patiently, his eyes never once leaving Steve's face, "because if you say no, I'll be gone, and out of your life, for good. You won't have to see me ever again. But if there's even the tiniest chance- by God, Steve, I will fight for you. I never did that back then, and I should have, should've had the balls to admit that I screwed up, should've fucking talked to you."

He stopped, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it. "Sorry 'bout that."

Steve stared at him, feeling numb and disoriented. He opened his mouth a few times, trying to get words out, and then shook his head in frustration.

Christian's entire body deflated, and he lowered his head in defeat.

"I see," he murmured, clearing his throat, "well, t'was worth a shot. Thank you for being honest."

He turned on his heels and Steve watched motionless as he slowly walked down the stairs of the porch, shoulders hunched, his steps heavy.

Something in Steve cracked and he found his voice again.

"Chris," he called but it came out as a broken whisper.

Christian still heard him and stopped, freezing mid-step, the muscles in his arms tensing. Steve's fingers dug deep into the wood under his palm, and for one brief lucid moment Lana's face flickered in front of his eyes. He groaned loudly, feeling as if someone had punched him in the guts.  But the feeling dissipated and was replaced by a warm clarity, spreading rapidly through his cold veins.

"Yes," he croaked, louder this time, and he could see the other man shudder violently at the sound of his voice, "yes, I do."

Everything stopped existing for a moment, and Steve had time to notice that all the small hairs in his body stood on end and that he was covered in goosebumps. He inhaled sharply and the world snapped back into place.

Christian stood stock still, only his hands clenched by his side, opening and closing, and Steve found himself watching it fascinated. He'd always been able to read Christian's moods by his body language, specifically the state of his hands, and right now was no different. Christian had never been a man of many words, he'd rather let actions speak, and Steve waited with baited breath on his reaction. It would decide over his entire future. Faintly he realized he just fucked his entire marriage over. But as Christian slowly turned and their eyes met over the dry grass of the lawn, he couldn't care less.

There was this saying that the eyes were the window to the soul. As rational as Steve was and as many times as he had sneered at that stupid expression, with Christian it had always been true.  As much as his body gave him away sometimes, his eyes _always_ told the truth. Deep blue as the sky and shimmering like the sapphires they reminded Steve of sometimes, they locked with Steve's, and they both shivered.

There was an electricity like sensation sizzling in the warm air between them, and then Steve was pressed hard against the door jamb, Christian's mouth on his, his shaking hands digging painfully in his neck.   
The shock of it rendered Steve helpless and so he stood there, letting Christian kiss him, making quiet little noises which finally tore Steve out of his trance.  
Carefully he lifted his hands, running them over Christian's quivering back until they settled around the man's neck, fingers sliding into his hair. Christian sighed shakily against Steve's lips, and it sounded much like a sob. His mouth fitted perfectly over Steve's and as the tip of his tongue fluttered against his lower lip, Steve let go of all restraint.

He moaned softly, his lips parted and he kissed back. Carefully, timidly, they explored each other’s mouths, their breath warm against their skin, their bodies melting against one another. Nothing mattered but the wet slide of their tongues, the hesitant caresses over each other's neck and the quiet sounds muffled by a kiss full of regrets and lost years.

Christian whined loudly and it broke the spell they were under. Steve pulled back just enough for them to gasp for air. Christian's pupils drowned out all the color of his eyes, and Steve knew his own eyes must look similar. They watched each other wordlessly, not able to let go, their fingers cradling, holding on, reassuring the other that it wasn't just a dream.

The distant sound of a car driving by reminded Steve that they were still standing on his porch and he cautiously let go of the other man.

"Come on in," he whispered, pulling Christian inside so they could close the door. As soon as the lock clicked shut, Christian pressed against him, his darkened eyes the only thing Steve could see.

"Stop me," Christian rasped, "or by God, I swear I'm going to have you smack against your own fucking door. And I don't care if your wife finds us."

Steve's knees actually gave out and only Christian's strong hands around his waist stopped him from sliding to the floor. He had forgotten what effect Christian's voice had on him - hoarse, seductive and right now with no care in the world. He swallowed hard, trying to muster up enough strength to mutter:

"She's not here."

He was rewarded with another searing kiss that left him rock hard and panting. Christian pressed harder against him, tilting his hips and Steve moaned helplessly as he felt the other man's erection against his thigh.

"See what you do to me," Christian growled in his ear, his teeth tugging at the lobe, "can't even-"

Steve shut him up with a frantic kiss, needing to feel him as close as possible. He'd been struggling with his suppressed emotions towards Christian for years. He had stuffed it all in a dark corner of his mind, trying desperately to forget about it. But having Christian's firm body in his arms again, feeling his strong muscles ripple beneath his hands, the suppressed longing overwhelmed him, drowned out any doubts.

This was the man he wanted. He had always wanted him even though he'd spent the past years denying himself even the faintest thought of him. And no matter what was lying ahead of them, right now, all he wanted was to forget and lose himself in the arms of the man who had owned his heart for the better part of his life. But there was that tiny voice in his head, scowling at him for letting Christian run him over like this. He broke the kiss, gasping loudly as Christian's hand slid under his shirt.

"Wait," he mumbled, his head falling against the door as Christian's mouth locked onto his neck, biting and licking.

"I've waited long enough," was the muffled answer, one hand brushing teasingly over Steve's throbbing erection

Steve whimpered - at his touch and the blatant truth in Christian's words.

"I know, fuck, I know," he breathed, squeezing his eyes closed as Christian stroked him through the heavy fabric of his jeans. Thinking was difficult with Christian's hands on him but there was one thing they needed to clear first. It took him some effort but he managed to set a hand between them, gently pushing Christian away.   
He growled again, and as Steve opened his eyes, the sight of the other man left him breathless. Christian's hair was a mess, his lips were swollen from kissing, his eyes only small black slits, watching him with such fire in it, Steve faintly wondered why he didn't combust.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered. He felt Christian's heart hammering, felt every thud in his fingertips splayed over the man's chest.

"We need to talk," her eventually said, pushing weakly against Christian, "we need to-"

"No," Christian said, straightening his back and laying a hand over Steve's, "we don't. Right now, I will take you to bed. We can talk after."

Steve saw the stubborn line around his mouth, heard the determination in his words, and he gave in. Right now he couldn't even think straight, and they've always talked best when pliant and sated in bed.

"But we have to," Steve insisted as he saw the wolfish grin spreading over Christian's face.

"And we will," he agreed, pulling Steve into his arms, "later."

Steve melted into Christian's arms as he kissed him again, passionately and heated.

"Bedroom," he murmured between nibs on Steve's lips, his hands roaming his back until they settled on Steve's ass, pulling him even closer.

Steve had to concentrate on thinking, his heart was pounding loudly in his ears and Christian's deep moans weren't helping at all.

"No," he finally said roughly, "guestroom."

Christian pulled back, searching his eyes. He looked at him for a moment, making Steve shiver under his gaze.

"Go," Christian then said, letting go of him enough that Steve could scramble along the hall towards the unused bedroom. As turned on as he was, he knew he would not have Christian in the bed Lana and he slept in.

Opening the door to the small room, he stumbled over his own feet but Christian caught him. Before he even knew it he was flat on his back on the bed, Christian's face hovering only inches from his own, his weight pressing him into the hard mattress.

"I love you," Christian whispered hoarsely, "I love you so fucking much."

Before Steve could reply, Christian closed his opening mouth with a passionate kiss, his hands already scrambling for the hem of his t-shirt.

Everything became a bit blurry then. Their clothes were gone within seconds, their loud moans filling the quiet of the room, their kisses turning into bites, breathless and heated. Christian's nails scraped over Steve's skin, Steve's finger dug deep into Christian's shoulders as he flipped them over so they were laying side by side.

One heated look and they both knew they wouldn't be able to take this slow. Their fingers found each other's cock, and they both whimpered as they started stroking. Christian arched into Steve's hand, slippery on his hard flesh, and Steve cried out as Christian slid one finger past his balls and squeezed. They were rutting against each other, blind and deaf for anything but the other one's touch. Christian's chest was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and he had abandoned all care, his hand curled tightly around Steve's cock. Both were panting heavily, whispering each other's names into the small space separating them. Steve felt the familiar tingling down his spine and his toes curled in anticipation, Christian's loud groans filling his mind. He yelled out as his climax hit, burying his face in the crook of Christian's neck while he jerked and shuddered, not able to stop the soft words falling from his lips.

"Chris... god, darlin...I love you..."

His own hand had stopped moving around Christian, just holding him while he was shaken by his orgasm. Christian's trembling hand closed around his, and it took only a few more strokes before Christian's body arched from the bed, a broken "Steve!" escaping him, and he spilled his release over Steve's hand. His fingers slipped away and he sank deeper into the mattress, Christian's hot breath against his neck, his heavy arm across his chest.   
Catching their breaths, they didn't move for a long time. Steve was drifting into a hazy sleep as Christian kissed his shoulder, shifting a bit next to him. Steve turned his head and blinked heavy lids open. Christian's clouded blue eyes lightened up as their gaze met.

"Bathroom?" Christian asked quietly, scrunching his nose which made Steve giggle. He'd always hated the stickiness on his stomach.

Steve waved a sluggish hand in direction of the small door in one corner of the room and Christian rolled out of bed, grunting under his breath. Steve watched him walk through the room, smiling lazily as the sun caught in the dimples on his back. Every single nerve in his body was singing quietly, and as Christian stumbled back, a wet cloth in his hand, he raised a curious eyebrow at him.

"What's so funny?" he asked, his voice still husky and it sent a burning thrill through Steve. Christian saw his reaction and grinned slyly.

"Nothing," Steve replied, sitting up a bit and took the cloth from Christian, wiping his stomach.

Christian made a disbelieving sound and crawled back into bed, never taking his eyes off Steve. He kissed his way up Steve's legs, made him giggle as he nuzzled into the sensitive skin of his groin and groan as he licked over his nipples. Flopping down next to him, he rolled on his stomach and rested his chin on Steve's shoulder, peering intensely into his face.

"Hello," he purred lowly, his eyes twinkling happily.

Steve shuffled an arm under him, pulling him closer, his other hand pushing the hair out of Christian's face.

"Hey," he replied softly, placing a kiss on Christian's nose. He glared at him mockingly, making Steve laugh again.

"C'mere you," he murmured, pulling Christian into his arms and buried his face in his hair. He inhaled deeply, relishing the feeling of his warm body against his own. They held each other for a while, not saying anything, getting adjusted again. Words were crowding Steve's mind, so many things to say, so much to talk about. Right now though, he couldn't think of anything that couldn't wait.

"You hungry?" he asked softly into the coarse curls, having heard the low rumble of Christian's stomach.

"A bit," he admitted, his fingers drawing random patterns over Steve's chest.

"Wanna see if I've got anything in?"

"Hm, that'd mean getting up, yeah?"

Steve chuckled.

"Yes."

"Then I'm not actually hungry," Christian sounded petulant, and he wrapped his arms around Steve, effectively trapping him on the bed.

"Come on Silly, let me go. I'll cook for you and then we can talk."

Christian shook his head, pressing his face against Steve's chest.

"Can't we just stay here?"

Oh, that didn't sound good. Steve felt a well-known unease tighten inside him and he pushed Christian up a bit, trying to peer in his face.

"Chris? Come on, man, you know just as well that we have to talk about this," and as Christian still didn't look at him, he added sharply, "you promised."

That got his attention. Christian's head whipped around and the guarded expression in his face had Steve flinch.

"I know," Christian said, "I just had hoped we could just enjoy this a little bit longer."

Steve frowned and sat up, searching Christian's face for the reason of the hopelessness he thought he heard.

"What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled.

Christian shrugged and rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to Steve. Just as Steve wanted to reach out, Christian straightened and his voice was cold as he said:

"If you want me to leave, just say it."

Steve's mouth fell open and for a good long moment he started at Christian, stiff and unmoving. Finally it clicked in his head and he was out of bed and kneeling in front of Christian in a heartbeat.

"Listen, you stupid shit," he growled without heat, "didn't I just fucking prove to you that I'm fucking willing to leave my wife? For you, you complete idiot."

Christian's eyes snapped open and he stared at Steve with the most uncomprehending expression Steve had ever seen on his face. He bit back a laugh and took Christian's hands - they were cold. He rubbed them between his own, waiting for Christian to catch up.

"Yes," Steve said calmly as Christian finally showed some understanding, "I mean it. Now get up, get dressed, I'll make you something to eat and we'll sort this out once and for all."

He stood, collected Christian's clothes from the floor and dropped them on the bed, slipping in his own jeans.

"Come on, you could always think best with a full stomach. Kitchen's down the hall."

He left without looking back.

*

Steve was looking through the fridge as he heard Christian's bare feet pad down the hall, and he smiled softly. He wouldn't bail on him bootless, that much he knew. Closing the fridge door he turned, scanning Christian as he hesitantly stepped into the big kitchen, his eyes flicking all over the place before they stopped at Steve.

"I've got some leftover pasta," Steve said casually, gesturing at the table, "sit, only takes a moment."

While he puttered around reheating dinner from last night, he was overly aware of the cautiousness emitting from the other man. Now that they were dressed again, Steve wondered what had caused Christian's sudden wariness. He got what he came for: offering Steve a choice. And Steve had made his decision. Did Christian think he'd regret it? Send him away again? He should know him better. Steve had no clue where all this would take him - take them - but he had made up his mind and he would stick with it till the end. God knew they had tried to make it work back then and they had failed epically. But time had passed, and Steve knew they both had changed massively. Christian was more honest, to others and more importantly to himself. He started to talk about his feelings which was a major improvement. He was more mature than when they had met all those years ago. Back then, they only had the passion, for each other and their music. Everything else, trust, honesty, comprehension, all the things a functioning relationship needed they had lacked and cast aside. They had loved each other but it just hadn't been enough. But maybe, just maybe, they could actually make it work this time. There were still so many things to take care of, and Steve's stomach clenched as he thought about Lana - that would be the worst but he was willing to go through with it.

For Christian. His heart swelled at the thought of a future with the man and he turned, needing to look at him.

Christian sat at the table, a deep frown in his forehead, staring out the big windows. It hurt to see him like that, and Steve left the pot on the stove and stomped over, falling next to Christian, startling him.

"Stop that right now," he growled, cradling Christian's face in his hands, "whatever you're thinking, stop it."

Christian's throat worked as he swallowed but before he could say anything, Steve kissed him. Gently, carefully but with all the affection he had, coaxing Christian's lips apart, sighing happily as he felt Christian's stiff body relax into the kiss and for a while they lost themselves in it.   
As Steve broke it, there was a tiny smile lingering on Christian's face, and it stayed as Steve got up again.

"Food first, then we talk," he said, clearing his throat as he returned to the stove.

*

Half an hour later they were sitting on the back porch, a cup of coffee in hands. The sun was setting, painting the flat land around them in orange and yellow, glinting in the little stream passing through the backyard.

"It's really nice here," Christian said quietly after a while.

Steve nodded, setting down his mug, turning towards the other man.

"Chris, what do you want? From me? From us?" Best to cut straight to the point. Anything else would only end in disaster.

Christian flinched a bit but tried to hide it which made Steve sigh.

"Chris, if I've learned anything from the catastrophe that our life was back then, it's that we must be honest with each other. Don't make assumptions, don't keep things from me which concern us both. It'll only end in our hearts being broken. I cannot go through that again. I love you. I always have, and I probably always will. I don't know what that says about me, being married to someone else-"

Christian flinched again and Steve bit his lip.

"Sorry but those are the facts here. I don't want to hurt you but we have to deal with that. So, I ask again. What do you want?"

Christian glanced at him before he looked away. Steve waited patiently until he was done sorting his mind.

"I want you. Simple as that," Christian finally said, turning towards him, the blue of his eyes shining brightly, "I want you and me together again. I want you in my bed, I want to wake up in your arms. I want to fight with you and I want to make up with you. I want to talk to you, about anything and nothing. I want to sing for you. I want to sing WITH you. Fuck, Steve, I want it all. And I don't even know if I can ever have that again." His voice faded away and he looked down, a faint blush creeping over his face.

There was a lump in Steve's throat and he needed to avert his gaze. He watched a few lonely clouds sail over the azure sky, overly aware of Christian's tension.

"I want that too," he then murmured, "everything you said. And more." He exhaled, blindly holding out a hand. Christian's fingers instantly entwined with his and only then he was able to look at him again. Christian's eyes were shimmering suspiciously and he cursed quietly as a tear slid down his cheek. He wiped it away almost angrily, the flush on his cheeks deepening. Steve bit his lips, torn between laughing and crying himself. He raised their joined hands and pressed kisses on every bit of warm skin of Christian's hand.

"Well," he croaked, tightening his grip, "we should try that then."

Suddenly he had an armful of Christian in his lap, plastering kisses all over his face, and neither man minded the saltiness on their lips. They clung to each other like starving men, desperate and joyful.

"Fuck man," Steve wheezed, "you weigh a ton, get off me," but Christian captured his lips in a bruising kiss, making him even more breathless than he already was. Suddenly there was a creak and the chair broke, sending both men tumbling to the floor. They stared at each other before they burst into laughter again, scrambling to their feet.

"Well," Steve said, running a somewhat unsteady hand through his hair, "didn't really like it anyways."

Christian looked at the ruined chair and froze, realization dawning so visible Steve thought he could see his every thought. His voice was small when he asked:

"What about your wife?"

Steve felt guilt wash over him in one cold wave. He shrugged, his hand absently going to the wedding ring on his finger.

"I don't know. I mean, I love her. Not like I love you," he quickly added as he saw the shadow flickering over Christian's face, "don't even think about that. I... fuck, she'll be devastated."

Suddenly Steve looked up. "What about your girlfriend?"

Christian smiled sheepishly.

"She sent me here."

Steve took a step back in surprise.

"What?"

Christian giggled helplessly, trying to explain but failed.

"I need a drink," Steve said resolutely and marched inside, leaving Christian laughing on the porch. When he finally was able to stop, he followed Steve inside. He had opened a bottle of whiskey, a second glass stood on the counter and Christian took it, still shaking with suppressed laughter. Steve glared at him, his mouth quivering but his voice was stern as he said:

"You've got five minutes until I pour cold water over you if you don't stop and talk."

Christian cackled again and emptied the glass in one quick gulp. The alcohol seemed to help and soon he sat down at the table again, explaining how he ended up in front of Steve's door. The bottle was half empty by the time he was done, and they were both more than a little tipsy when Christian yawned almost violently.

Steve sat up straight, tilting his head.

"Where are you staying?" he asked, stumbling over his tongue.

Christian narrowed his eyes before understanding made him smile widely. It was instantly followed by a frown.

"I don't have... I mean, I wasn't even sure whether you were home," he said, "I came straight from the airport, wanting to..." his voice trailed off and Steve instantly reached out, caressing his cheek.

"Shh, 's all good now," his words were a bit slurred, "you'll stay here tonight. Lana-, she's away and won't be back for three days. I... we... well." He shrugged, not able to sort his jumbled thoughts at this point. "Stay," he pleaded, batting his eyelashes which got him a low chuckle.

"Idiot," Christian muttered, yawning again.

"Look who's talking," Steve shot back, scrambling to his feet, "c'mon, let's go to bed. Was a long day."

Christian stumbled as he stood and Steve wrapped an arm around him. Together they made their way towards the guestroom. In the door they stopped, staring at the mess on the bed.

"Wait here, I'll get fresh sheets," Steve said, letting go of Christian and vanished down the hallway.

When he returned, he honest to God cooed at the sight of Christian curled up in the rocking chair by the window, snoring quietly. He watched him for a long while, leaning in the doorway, the sheets forgotten in his arms. Every cell of his body was filled with love for the man sleeping peacefully in what must be an uncomfortable position. A watery moon cast dark shadows over his face, enhancing the sharpness of his features. He didn't notice the tear silently slipping down his face. Only as it dropped on his hand, he shook himself and walked into the room.   
He quickly stripped the bed, depositing the soiled sheets in a corner of the bathroom; he needed to wash them before Lana came back. It'd be hard enough for her, she didn't need to find the evidence of Steve's betrayal in the wash.  
When he was done, he took off his clothes and kneeled next to Christian, gently shaking him.

"Come to bed, man," he whispered, helping Christian up as he opened hazy eyes. He undressed him, only leaving his boxers and ushered him into bed. Christian instantly curled around himself, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like Steve's name. Smiling Steve slipped into bed as well and pulled the covers over them, leaning over to kiss Christian's forehead.

"Sleep tight," he murmured as he snuggled close to him.

He fell asleep with Christian's hand in his - a reminder that this wasn't just a happy dream.

***

Christian woke with a terrible headache. Sunlight streamed too brightly through the half closed curtains and he buried his face into the soft cushion, hiding. 

A quiet mutter next to him had him blink heavy lids open. Steve was still sound asleep, facing Christian, who could only stare at him. Slowly realization seeped into his foggy brain and he opened his eyes wide, ignoring the stab of pain that motion caused.  He let his eyes slide over Steve's peaceful face. His long lashes fluttered a bit; he was dreaming, his eyes moved quickly behind his closed lids. His hair shimmered like honey in the soft morning light, tangled strands spread over the pillow. A strand had fallen in his face and Christian reached out, pushing it gently away. His fingertips brushed over the stubble on Steve's cheek, and he bit back a moan. For some reason that little touch made everything even more real and Christian lifted his other hand only to find Steve's fingers still tightly entwined with his own. He kissed the knuckles carefully. Steve moved in his sleep, his jaw working a little before he laid still again.

Christian watched him a little longer until he regretfully let go and quietly slid out of bed. He padded towards the bathroom to relieve himself. The small shower looked inviting, reminding him that he hadn't showered last night. Peaking back into the bedroom, he found Steve still sleeping and after a moment of hesitation he opened the small drawer next to the sink. He found some towels, neatly folded, and an assortment of shower gels, shampoos and soaps.

A strange thrill slithered down his back as he stripped his boxers and turned on the water. If things hadn't gone completely south between him and Steve, he might have been a welcomed guest in here, might even have called this room his own when he was in town. He might have deposited some of his stuff here, some spare clothes, a toothbrush, his guitar even. 

Stepping under the hot water, he closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, losing himself in daydreams. He might have been Steve's best man, might have gone to pick an engagement ring. Might have.

Sometimes he wondered whether things would had been better if they hadn't fallen into bed one night, if they had stayed just friends. Without all the turmoil a love affair always brought on. As much as it had hurt, he had known that he would've done anything to get him back. He had loved him deeply even before they had become lovers, had adored him and he knew how lucky he had been to have him. He had always been his backbone, had kept him straight when he had overdone it, not only on stage but in any part of his life.

While the water splashed down on him, he tried to remember when he first realized that he had felt more for Steve, tried to pinpoint when exactly he had fallen in love with him.   
He couldn't. From the moment they had met over a decade ago to this very morning, whenever he thought about him, all he felt was such a deep affection, and he faintly wondered whether he'd loved him all along.

Shrugging he shook his head, grabbing the shampoo and lathered his hair. There was no point in reminiscing. They would write a completely new story, start from scratch and making it right this time. Christian knew that he was the main reason they had fought like cats back then: he could be stubborn as a bull, and Steve had only reacted to that, which had caused all the clashes between them. He had changed, he knew that. Silently he thanked Sofia for that, and he was determined to show Steve that he was a different man now. And he would start with making breakfast. He'd never done that before.

Smiling he quickly finished his shower, wrapped a towel around his hip and quietly sneaked through the bedroom, not wanting to wake the other man. He found the way to the kitchen without problem but then he stopped in the doorway. Would it be okay if he went through Steve's - and Lana's, he not once forgot about her - cupboards? Snoop around their kitchen as if he's got a right for it?

Christian hated to feel this insecure. While he stood there in the quiet kitchen, the sun slowly filling the room with warmth, he heard a key turn in the lock at the door. He froze, all his limbs turned numb as he very slowly turned, staring down the hall. The door opened and a small woman walked in, dragging a suitcase along. She dropped it, pushing the door closed again and sighed. Then she looked up and their eyes met over the distance of the hall. Christian's mouth went dry and the hair at the nape of his neck stood on end.

"Oh, hello," she said, smiling sweetly even though Christian registered the confusion in her voice, "didn't know Steve had company over."

Christian swallowed hard, a hand instantly dropping to his towel, clenching around it.

"Hi," he eventually managed to say, the word foreign on his tongue.

Her gaze flickered over his naked form, and she stifled a smile.

"Let me guess," she said, amusement clearly visible on her face now, "Steve's still passed out and you're starving?"

She walked down the hall and past him, before she stopped and turned again. "Gosh, I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm Lana," she extended a hand towards Christian.

It was pure reflex that he mirrored it, taking her hand.

"Chris," he muttered, jumping as her grip tightened.

"Chris? As in Christian Kane?"

Christian nodded heavily, his hand still in her small one. Her touch was firm and her fingers warm. Lana's smile was blinding.

"Steve's told me so much about you," she beamed, her eyes sparkling happily.

Christian's stomach dropped and a horrible coldness spread through his limbs. She had no idea. She assumed - what most people did - that he was just a friend.

"I'm so happy to see you two are finally over whatever it was that kept you apart," she rambled as she started to go through the cupboards; Christian noticed that she put together breakfast for three.

"How long are you staying?" she asked, spooning coffee ground into the machine. The smell filled the kitchen and Christian's stomach rumbled loudly. She giggled knowingly.

"See, I knew it. How about you get dressed and I see if I rustle up a breakfast for you two? I assume it was a late night last night?"

Christian nodded lamely and was down the hall before she could say another word. When he slammed the door to the guestroom closed, he was panting heavily. The noise woke Steve who blinked owlishly at him, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Morning," he mumbled, stretching languidly, "why are you up already? Come back to bed." His voice dropped and despite the slight panic Christian was in, he felt his cock twitch. Steve saw it too and the smile turned predatory. He pushed the covers away and patted the bed. Christian gritted his teeth, and shook his head heavily.  Steve frowned and sat up.

"What is it?"

"Your wife," he finally hissed, pointing in the vague direction of the kitchen.

Steve's eyes widened almost comically and he was out of bed in a heartbeat. Wordlessly he pushed Christian aside and carefully opened the door, peeking out. They both could hear her hum softly and the sound of something cooking.

"Fucking hell," Steve cursed quietly and closed the door again.

"Did she see you?" he asked as he moved around the room, throwing on his clothes.

Christian was leaning against the wall, his chest heaving in panic.

"Yeah."

Steve whirled around, staring at him.

"What?"

Christian shook his head weakly.

"Friends."

He couldn't manage more but Steve instantly understood. Muttering curses under his breath he dove into the bathroom, emerged only seconds later and was on the way to the door when Christian stopped him.

"What do we do?" he asked wearily.

"Nothing," Steve hissed, "for now she doesn't suspect anything. You get dressed and then we'll have breakfast together. I'll talk to her later."

Christian flinched at the hard tone but Steve was out the door before he could say anything else. He heard a door slam and then Steve's voice, cheerful and so wrong in his ears.

"Honey, you're home early."

Lana's answer was muffled but Christian heard her soft laugh. It took him five more minutes to move. He walked around the room in trance, picking up his clothes and got dressed. He needed another five minutes to gather up the courage to open the door and peek down the hall. He could hear a murmured conversation and then he saw Steve walk through the kitchen, carrying a mug, a half smile on his face. He caught sight of Christian, stopped and with a small jerk of his head beckoned him over.   
Stepping out the door, he inhaled deeply and straightened his back. He was an actor, he could do this. Putting a smile on his face he walked down the hall on wobbly legs.

"Ah, there he is, good morning, Chris," Steve said too cheerfully, the fake smile on his face painful to watch.

"I'm so glad you two had fun last night," Lana said, motioning Christian to sit at the table and putting a plate in front of him.

"I was worried, you know," she stage-whispered as she spooned eggs and bacon on the plate, "he wasn't himself lately."

"Lana, babe, I can hear you," Steve said, sitting opposite Christian, his eyes drilling hard into his. _Please play along._

He lowered his head into an unsuspicious nod and took up his fork. Lana was chatting about, not noticing the tension hanging in the air, making it hard for Christian to breathe. He didn't say much, concentrated on his food and only nodded or shook his head when he felt Steve's foot nudging him under the table.

"How long are you staying, Christian?"

His head shot up and he swallowed the last bite of his bacon. But before he could answer, Steve chimed in.

"He's got a plane to catch, I'll take him to the airport in a bit."

"Pity," Lana said, her tone so sincere that Christian felt even more horrible, "I would've loved to get to know you a bit more. Steve couldn't stop talking about you. Only good things, of course," she smirked at Christian, "he'd never told me what happened."

She raised a questioning eyebrow, and Christian could see that she was dying to know but was was too polite to ask directly. And suddenly Christian could see why Steve had married her. She was completely different from him, understanding and kind although he could feel an iron will in her small body. His heart clenched and he dropped his fork, pushing the chair back. He needed to get out of here. Now.

"Excuse me," he muttered stiffly and fled the kitchen.

In the safety of the guestroom he collapsed on the bed, trying to control his trembling body. He jerked up as the door opened and closed again.

"I'm so fucking sorry, man, I had no idea." Steve slowly walked over and fell heavily on the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. "She said she'd be gone for a few days. Something came up though and now...well," he waved a weary hand around.

"Not your fault," Christian mumbled, sitting up, "I better get going then."

Steve stood, holding out a hand which Christian ignored.

"Yeah," Steve sighed, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets, "I'll see that I talk to her as soon as possible."

They stood in the middle of the room, and Christian felt the severity of their situation taking his breath away. Everything had become much more real now and Christian wasn't so sure anymore that he wanted to be the reason for Steve's failed marriage. Lana was sweet and nice and probably so much better for Steve than he could ever be.

"Don't you fucking dare," Steve growled, his narrowed eyes scanning Christian's face, "I can hear you think. Stop that. I've made my decision and I'll stick to that."

He reached out and even though Christian stepped back, Steve's hand closed tightly around his wrist.

"I love you, Chris," he whispered fiercely, his eyes glowing deep blue in the light, "don't you think I'll backtrack now. No fucking way."

He pulled and Christian stumbled forward against him. Steve wrapped his arms around him, pressed their bodies together. They were both shaking.

"I'll sort this out and then I'll call you. Maybe we can go away, somewhere far away, just you and me."

Christian made a low noise in his throat, wrapping his arms around Steve, nodding violently.

"I would love that," he said, knowing full well how impossible that was. But he could dream.

"Then let's do that. As soon as we can." Steve's voice was soft and chased a shiver down Christian's spine. He leaned back, scanning Steve's face.

"Somewhere warm," he muttered, smiling as Steve huffed a laugh and nodded enthusiastically.

"Somewhere with a beach," he added quietly, pressing a fleeting kiss on Christian's neck.

"Sounds like heaven," Christian said.

"Soon."

Their eyes locked even as they both let go of each other, putting some space between them.

"I better go then," Christian said, making a step towards the door.

"I can take you."

Christian shook his head, his hand twitching with the sudden urge to caress Steve's face. He clenched it into a fist

"Nah, not a good idea."

"She'll wonder."

"I don't care."

"Asshole." It came out with so much affection, Christian had to look away.

"Idiot," he croaked, taking a controlled breath.

Silence fell, heavy and full of unsaid things.

"Give me a few days," Steve said, "a week tops, 'kay?"

Christian nodded wordlessly, his eyes burning. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand to keep from saying or doing anything.

"Get going then," Steve grunted, motioning towards the door.

Christian looked up and then he moved quickly. He pushed Steve against the wall, subconsciously softening the thump against it with his hand on Steve's back. His lips found Steve's instantly. The kiss was desperate and frantic, Steve's hands were in his hair instantly, pulling him closer. Everything they couldn't voice flowed into this one kiss: despair at their situation, a searing longing bottled up over years, and the tiniest spark of hope.

Slowly the sharp edge fainted, morphed into something more sensual yet not less fierce. Eventually Steve broke away, panting. He pushed Christian away, his eyes wide and wanting.

"Go. Now," he snarled, his pupils black and huge.

Christian swallowed hard, pulled his shirt over the bulge in his jeans and opened the door. He stalked down the hall and was out the door without looking back. As soon as he was out of sight of the house, he fished his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his numbers. Finding the right one, he pressed the 'call' button, waiting impatiently until it was picked up.

"You're up early, Kane."

Christian sighed with relief.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that, Jen. Listen, could you do me a huge favour and pick me up?"

***

Steve eyed the three suitcases sitting by the door. Funny, he thought, how an entire life could fit into such a small space. He had his guitars of course but they were already gone, stowed away safely in a hastily rented depository. He loved his instruments, which Lana knew very well and Steve didn't want to give her the chance to take out her rage on them.

Sighing he sat on the small bench in the hall, contemplating the past few days while he waited for Jared to pick him up. Lana was gone and wouldn't return until he sent the message that he had left. For good. She would get the house and everything in it except the few things Steve couldn't live without. He shuddered thinking back to all the yelling, crying and breaking things after he had sat her down to tell her everything.

A sarcastic smile played over his lips as he remembered the colorful curses she had hissed at him in three languages. If it wasn't so terrible, he would've loved to learn them, they sounded interesting. He had just sat there and had let her get it out, only stepping in as she started to get physical. She was stronger than she looked and it took Steve all this strength to keep her from scratching his eyes out. He had tried to explain, tried to stay calm and quiet but justifiedly she hadn't listened. He had understood that just too well, so he had let her throw things at him, only ducked out of the way. Eventually she had tired herself out and slumped down on the couch, staring at him with tears in her eyes. Steve's chest still hurt when he thought about the emptiness on her face. He had packed a few things and had left; Jared had offered to take him in until this was sorted.

Steve had never been so grateful that he lived close enough to both Jared and Jensen that he had a safe haven now. He still could've gone to his mom but for now he wanted to keep her and his dad out of this. They would learn about it early enough. He cringed at that thought. His mom loved Lana like a daughter and she had been so very happy about their relationship, had playfully teased them both about grandchildren. She would be devastated.

The sound of tires outside tore him out of his head and he stood just as the doorbell went off. He opened, and the sight of Jared's handsome face, smiling broadly at him, took away some of the pain in his chest.

"Ready, man?" Jared asked, not waiting for an answer. He grabbed two suitcases and strolled back to the car, loading them into the back.

Steve took the other one and cast one last look around the hallway. He had loved this house, it had been a home for him and Lana for over two years. And yet he smiled as he walked out the door, closing it carefully behind him. He dropped the keys in the mailbox - his promise to Lana to never coming back.

Jared leaned against the side of the car, watching him closely.

"You're doing the right thing," he said softly as Steve walked towards him, heaving the last case into the back.

Steve smiled at him.

"I know."

"Come on, Jen's planning a surprise party for you... whoops, shouldn't have said that, huh?"

He chuckled as he folded his long limbs into the driver’s seat, Steve slipping into the car on the other side.

"Why they still tell you anything will forever be a mystery to me," he grinned, buckling up.

Jared only snorted and started the car, slowly rolling down the driveway. At the edge of the street, Steve looked back. Jared stopped the car, letting him have a moment to say good-bye to his old life. Steve sniffed a bit and then nodded sharply.

"Thanks, man," he muttered, turning his back on the house.

"No problem at all."

Starting the car again, he drove down the small street leading to the highway.

"'s funny," Steve murmured, "shouldn't I feel remorse or anything?"

Jared shrugged, keeping his eyes on the street.

"No idea, man. You loved her but you love him more. I mean, it was-" he smirked," _is_ so obvious. We all knew it. No matter what happened, one could see it on your faces. Plain as day." He glanced over at Steve, a crooked smile on his lips. "You two just belong together."

Steve leaned back, looking out the window.

"I suppose we do," he murmured after a while, a quiet yet overwhelming joy filling his heart.

*

Genevieve awaited them at the door, smiling at them both. She kissed Jared and then hugged Steve tightly.

"Welcome," she said quietly, squinting a bit as she let go of him. "Come on in. And for Jared's sake, please act surprised."

She glared at Jared who ducked his head and had the decency to blush.

"Just slipped out," he mumbled, pulling his tiny wife against his side as they walked inside.

Steve could hear muffled voices and as he walked into the room, he was greeted by a loud hello and was instantly pulled into many hugs. By the time he was sitting on the huge couch he was dizzy, his face hurt from all the smiling. He felt a strange guilt creep up in him: all of his friends were so supportive despite the fact that he had just left his wife. A drink was pressed in his hands and he emptied it, trying to chase away the feeling. People were talking to him, hands clapped his back and it took him a while to realize that the reason for all this was leaning against a wall on the other side of the room, watching him attentively. Steve's heart fluttered as their eyes met across the room and for a long long moment he got lost in Christian's clear blue gaze. He rolled his eyes a bit at all the chatter around them but Steve could see that he was enjoying this, his pose was relaxed, his shoulders loose and his smile easy.

And suddenly Steve couldn't just stay away from him. He scrambled to his feet and walked straight over to Christian whose brows narrowed curiously at him as he pushed away from the wall. Steve didn't hesitate. He reached out, cupped his jaw and pulled him into a short but fierce kiss. Christian hummed lowly, one arm sliding around Steve's waist, holding him close.   
Faintly he noticed everyone going quiet for a heartbeat before subdued applause filled the room. Christian smiled against his lips, a quiet confidence radiating from his still form. Steve wrapped his arms around him, deepening the kiss before he broke away, rubbing his nose gently against Christian's. He wanted to say so much, so many things he never said before but Christian imperceptibly shook his head.

"Later," he whispered, kissing the tip of his nose, "we have all the time in the world now."

Steve nodded, caressing Christian's back one last time before he let go.

"Later," he said, his voice breaking as a sudden onslaught of emotions washed over him. His throat closed up and he looked away, casually wiping a hand over his eyes.

Jensen appeared at their side and it took him only one look to assess the situation.

"Well then," he said loudly, clapping his hands together, "now that we have two chefs here, shall we start with the meat? Chris, there's a few plates in the fridge, the grill is fired up. Steve, I need you for a second."

While Christian wandered into the kitchen, Jensen walked Steve towards his office and closed the door behind them.

"She called me," he said unceremoniously, "wanting to know if you're going to stay here. I told her. Not about Chris, obviously. She'll send the paperwork here until further notice."

Steve's good mood vanished and he sat heavily in a chair.

"I wish I could make this easier for her," he said.

Jensen leaned against his desk, watching him closely.

"It won't be easy. For either of you, you know that?"

As Steve nodded, he continued:

"She won't fight, she told me as much. Good thing you've already made sure your instruments are gone, I have the feeling she would've taken this out on them. I haven't heard a woman curse that colorfully in years, and I grew up in fucking Texas."

Steve snorted an unamused laugh.

"Tell me about it."

Jensen leaned back, his startling green eyes observing him closely.

"You know what you're doing, Steve?"

Steve heard the doubt in his tone; he absolutely  understood it. Christian and he had a very rocky history and Jensen had been around for most of it. It was only natural that he was wary. But Steve had had time to think and for once he was as sure as he had ever been. He stood, squaring his shoulder and his voice was firm when he said:

"Yes, Jensen, _we_ know what we're doing."

The small flinch didn't go unnoticed and Steve had to bite back a satisfied grin.

"We've changed," he added softly, "him and me. I don't know whether that's enough but I'm more than willing to give it a try. We both want that. Things just weren't right back then, we were too young, too naive, stupid enough to believe loving each other would suffice. We both made mistakes and more importantly, we know it. We won't make the same mistakes again. Jen, I love him. More than I've ever loved anything in my life. And he loves me. We've grown over the past years and I'm confident that we can make it."

He exhaled; he hadn't meant to say all this, it just came out but by the look on Jensen's face it was exactly what he needed to hear. Wordlessly Jensen stood and pulled him into a tight hug.

"If he breaks your heart again, I'll kill him, you hear me?" he murmured as he let go.

"If he does, you won't have to, I'd do that myself," Steve said with a smirk, "but he won't. I still don't know exactly what it is but I trust him. Never did that this much back then."

"Your word in Kane's ear," Jensen said, smoothing down his shirt, "c'mon, let's get you back to him then before he eats all the steaks alone."

Chuckling they made their way out onto the terrace where their friends had gathered around the smoking grill. Jensen wandered over to his wife, undoubtedly to tell her about their little chat.

Steve grabbed himself a beer and sat in a chair a bit aside, letting his gaze slide over the group of people outside. He knew all of them for half of his life, and so did Christian. All of them knew what they've been through, most of them had been around for the cock-up their life had been back then. He had been surprised to see them all here, supporting them, never once judging - he hadn't heard one bad word about his impending divorce.   
Snorting he took a swig of his beer. That was still some way away, he knew that but he could wait, would patiently sit back, sign all the papers and if he was lucky and everything went smoothly he would be free in about a year.

For Christian.

A gentle caress on his shoulder made him look up.

"Where are you?" Christian asked quietly, crouching on the armrest, a beer in one hand, the other creeping around Steve's neck. His fingers slid in Steve's hair, playing absently with it; goosebumps appeared on Steve's bare arms and he leaned into Christian's touch.

"Nowhere," he said, scrunching his nose as Christian tugged gently at a strand of hair.

"Liar," he rumbled, leaning closer.

"Planning?" Steve offered timidly, not sure Christian wanted to hear something like this just yet.

But the blinding smile brightening his face took away the insecurity.

"And what are you planning?"

He leaned even closer, his lips brushing over Steve's ear, his voice dropping into a seductive purr. Steve's mouth went dry and it took only one small move of his head to claim Christian's lips, soft and warm and tasting of steak sauce and summer. He made a strangled sound and Christian instantly deepened the kiss, almost sliding into Steve's lap. He wrapped his arm around him, steadying him while he moaned tonelessly into the kiss.

"Hey, get a room you two."

Steve had no idea who said that but he broke the kiss, breathing heavily while Christian sat back, licking his lip.

"Stop it," Steve hissed, dropping a hand in his lap, adjusting himself.

"Ain't doing nothing," Christian drawled throatily, knowing exactly what effect that had on Steve.

They stared at each other heatedly, the crackling tension between them palpable. Christian's fingers crept down Steve's neck, pushing inside his shirt and Steve had to bite back a groan.

"Chris," he said, the warning clear in his tone.

"Steve," he replied mockingly but as he saw the expression on his face, he sighed and pulled back. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he grinned widely. Steve's stomach flipped at the beauty of it - he'd always loved when he smiled like this, carefree and unguarded.

"What?" he asked, clearing his throat.

Christian's eyes sparkled as he tilted his head.

"I know it's probably too soon to ask," he said and in the way he was carefully pronouncing every word, it was something close to his heart - Steve's breath hitched as he waited impatiently for him to finish that sentence.

"You think," Christian said, lowering his voice a bit, "that I should call Eric?"

Steve's brain needed a second to catch up with that but then he understood the implication.

"We never talked about that again, did we?" he said instead of an answer.

Christian shook his head, his eyes glued to Steve's face, his fingers drumming absently on the bottle in his hand.

"I'll think about it," Steve said teasingly, the prospect of what this would mean for them making his heart beat faster.

He knew his elevated pulse gave him away - Christians fingers were splayed over the side of his neck, he could feel it.

"Think about it, huh?" Christian growled, "anything I can do to... speed that thinking up?"

Steve snickered, pushing Christian off him and stood.

"Maybe," he said over his shoulder as he walked away to get himself another beer.

He felt Christian's burning gaze all the way into the kitchen.

*

Christian was happy. Truly and awfully happy. He couldn't even remember the last time he felt like this. He was among friends - Jared had been so generous to offer to let them to stay as long as they needed to sort everything out. Well, they had offered that to Steve. Christian didn't have to stay, Sofia wouldn't mind if he came home. But he didn't want to leave Steve for any length of time, not when he just got him back. He could've ask him to come with him but he would never dare to parade him around her. He owed her that much. They would find a way though - Christian still had an apartment in Nashville and the condo in Portland, and Steve could always go back to his parents, the guesthouse there had all he needed and Christian knew Sandy and Chris would take their son back in a heartbeat.

For now, Christian was content with sitting on Jared's terrace, plugging away on the guitar - Jensen had brought one over for him yesterday after he had complained to Genevieve how much he missed playing. His own were still in Oklahoma; he would pick them up on his way to the West Coast.   
It felt strange: he was more or less homeless at the moment and yet, when he woke in a bed that wasn't his, with Steve by his side, sleepily watching him, he didn't mind at all. Jared had tried to give them two rooms but after they had only stared at him, both with a raised eyebrow he had thrown his hands in the air.

"Fine but please lock the door. There are children in this house," he had groaned as he stomped off to inform his wife.

"Please, we know how to behave ourselves," Steve had shot back, which only earned him one of Jared's legendary eye-rolls.

Christian snickered as he thought of the disgruntled look on his face, his fingers easily sliding over the strings, creating one perfect harmony by accident.

"Oh," he breathed happily, playing it again and again until he was sure he wouldn't forget it.

"Working on something?"

Steve's voice drifted through the warm afternoon, making Christian smile widely.

"Nah," he said, craning his neck to look at Steve who strolled over to where he was sitting, dropping a kiss in his hair.

He flopped into the chair next to him, handing him a cold beer.

"Just got this," Christian said, putting the beer down and played the little harmony for Steve, "don't want to lose it."

Steve tilted his head and listened, eyes narrowed, head turned towards the guitar. He started humming, fingers tapping out a matching rhythm and suddenly the terrace was filled with music. A bit hesitant, a bit clumsy but it transported them back to the days when they had spent all their waking time writing and playing, creating something special. And when soft words started to pour out of Steve's mouth, Christian couldn't help the quiet groan. He kept playing, changing the chord to match Steve's pitch. He wished he could record this, just the two of them, the hot Texan sun burning down on them. But Steve's words trailed off and he made a face as he leaned back, taking a drink of his beer.

"Shit, I'm rusty," he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"No, man, that was great," Christian said as he put down the guitar, "you only need practice."

Steve snorted.

"Not used to working with anyone anymore-"

He stopped, biting his lip.

"Shit, sorry, Chris, I know-"

Christian shook his head.

"'s fine-"

He fell silent, strangely shy all of a sudden. Why was it that he was able to talk freely about his feelings but when it came to the music, or rather, making music with Steve again, he felt somewhat restrained.

Steve huffed a laugh.

"We're such idiots sometimes. Finally managed to talk about shit we never did back then but we can't talk about this?"

Now it was Christian's turn to blush and he started picking at the label of the bottle in his hands.

"Talk to me, Chris." Steve's voice was quiet but urgent and Christian glanced over, finding him watching him, his cheeks still burning. 

"What do you want from me?" Steve asked, gesturing at the guitar, "I know you want us to go back on stage again but what if we can't do that anymore? I have my own stuff now, play my own gigs. Sure, we can try again but what if we're too different now? We would need new songs, we can't rely on the old stuff. Have you written anything lately?"

Christian shrugged.

"Not much. Didn't really have the time and the inspiration for it."

Steve sat up, a hard line around his mouth.

"I need to ask this," he said, "will you bail on me again if we find out that we can't play together anymore?"

"No." The word was out of Christian's mouth even before he could think about the question. "Not ever," he added firmly, sitting up as well, turning towards Steve, "music is important to me, you know that better than anyone but it's not everything. Sure, I'd be sad but I won't bail. You'll have your own gigs, I'll have mine, it'll be fine. But don't fucking think for one second that I'd leave because of that. We are more than that."

The last sounded suspiciously like a question and Steve didn't think as he leaned over, taking Christian's hand in his.

"Yes, we are," he assured, "much more than that. We just have to go and try."

He sat quietly, his eyes wandering over Christian, clearly considering something. After a few silent moments, he squeezed his hand and then murmured softly: "I think it's time to call Eric."

Christian threw himself at him and they landed on the ground in a tangled heap, laughing and wheezing as Christian tried to kiss every inch of Steve's face that he could reach. He was talking, sputtering out endearments against his skin while Steve weakly tried to push him off, laughing so hard, they didn't hear the heavy footsteps entering the terrace.

Only a loud "guys?" made them look up. Jared was staring down at them, Sheppard on his arms while Thomas peered around his legs with wide eyes.

"Didn't I say something about keeping it down?" Jared asked testily, which only made them dissolve into laughter again.

"Daddy?" Thomas chirped, "why are-"

Jared interrupted him, shooed him back inside the house.

"You don't need to know, son. Your uncles have clearly gone insane, don't mind them," he grumbled as he walked back inside, resolutely closing the door behind them.

Christian giggled again, burying his face in Steve's neck who was shaking with suppressed laughter.

"We need to find a new place asap," Steve gasped, trying to sit up.

"Come to Portland with me," Christian blurted out, instantly scolding himself. He hadn't planned to spring that on him like this but now that it was out, he waited anxiously for an answer.

"Portland?" Steve sounded confused.

Christian sat on the ground, collection himself.

"Why yeah, I still have my old place there. Never got around to selling it, which comes in handy with us shooting up there again now."

Steve cocked his head, observing him closely, visibly considering it.

"It'd be close enough for me to visit Mom," he then said slowly, "still have to confess if... if Lana hasn't called her yet."

"We can search for something else if you don't want to stay up there," Christian said, a hopeful shimmer appearing in his eyes. "I'll go anywhere with you," he added quietly, knowing Steve must hear the truth in his words. Because he would. If Steve wanted to live in Timbuktu, he'd happily pack up his life and follow him there.

"Anywhere," he whispered, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

Steve exhaled audibly, his hand appearing in Christian's vision, gently caressing his cheek.

"Portland sounds great."

"Yeah?"

"Yes Chris, but then again, anywhere you go, I'll go, don't you know that?"

Wordlessly Christian tackled Steve to the ground again, his hands holding him closely as he kissed him again, losing himself in the warmth of Steve's welcoming mouth.

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

Jared's voice traveled across the lawn, accompanied by Christian's and Steve's soft laughter.

 

***

 

They are both nervous, pacing the room like two caged tigers, the sound of their boots on the floor the only sound. An untouched whiskey bottle sits by the door, and they're both more than tempted to open it. But they made a promise, to each other and to themselves.

"When it's over," Steve had murmured as he put it there.

Christian had nodded wordlessly and started to stride across the room, his fingers clenching at his side.

"Maybe...?" Christian starts then shakes his head but Steve knows what he wants to say.

"No."

"Did we...?"

"Yes."

He doesn't need to finish his sentences, Steve's so attuned to him again that he can read him like an open book.   
They resume their pacing, fingers brushing against one another whenever they cross paths. Finally Eric puts them out of their misery.

"Boys? Showtime."

He leaves the door open and they can hear the loud chatter and the excited chants.

"Ready?" Steve asks, grabbing his guitar.

"No," Christian says but he smiles as he takes his own instrument.

They walk towards the stairs, stopping short of it, hesitant to climb them.

"Want me to...?" Steve gestures up the steps.

Christian shakes his head. He reaches out and gentle pushes a strand of hair out of Steve's face.

"Together," he whispers, leaning in to steal one last kiss.

Steve deepens it before he breaks away, the smile on his face blinding in its brightness.

"Let's do this," he says hoarsely, wrapping the guitar strap around his shoulder and walking up the stairs.

Christian follows suit, not wanting to fall back into bad habits.

The noise is getting louder and as he walks the short distance between the landing and the four steps leading onto stage, his ears are ringing with the sheer volume of the cheers.  He stumbles but catches himself quickly, squinting into the bright lights. Steve's already waiting at the right hand side of the stage - his side - his eyes glowing like blue diamonds. It takes Christian all his will power to not get lost in his gaze.

He sets his guitar into the stand before he turns towards the crowd, trying to make out anything against the blinding lights. He can't but that's okay. He casts one last look at Steve who's practically bursting with restrained energy, his fingers twitching along the strings of his guitar. It's all Christian needs.   
He ruffles his hair, missing its length for a split second but then he steps forward, exhaling deeply and slips into his stage persona in one smooth move.

"Hello Dante's, Kane's back."

 *

Steve's soaked in sweat as he stumbles down the steps, falling onto the old couch, not able to stop grinning, dropping his guitar carelessly on the floor. Christian's right behind him, equally drenched, his hair a complete mess, his shirt sticking to his chest as he puts his guitar in its case, flopping next to him. They can still hear the chants, can feel the stomping of feet through the ceiling, making the small room vibrate.

"Well," Steve exhales, "that went okay, I'd say."

Christian throws his head back and laughs heartily, unfurling a deep desire in Steve's stomach. That's the Christian he loves the most and will always prefer to all the other sides of his personality: unguarded, carefree and happy.

"God, I fucking love you," Steve groans, turning towards Christian.

His laugh fades but doesn't leave his lips.

"And I love you but you know that already," Christian says, voice as dark as his eyes as he holds out his hand, too beat for anything else.

Steve lays his hand in Christian's, tangling their fingers together. They sit together, listening to the noise above their heads, just taking it all in. Steve's chest is too tight and the feeling spreading through his heavy limbs is something he can't find words for. He settles for leaning over and pressing a kiss against Christian's damp neck which earns him a low purr that seems to echo through the room endlessly.

"We still got it," Christian drawls after a while, his accent thick and lazy - Steve hears the exhaustion in his voice but also his joy.

He hums approvingly, squeezing Christian's hand. Suddenly they hear heavy steps down the stairs and Eric bursts into the room.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he grunts loudly, glaring at them both, "they're yelling their lungs out for you. Off you go, back up there you two."

Steve and Christian share an amused look as they heave themselves off the couch, Steve taking up his guitar while Eric holds Christian's out to him. Christian grins widely, his fingers on Steve's back pressing a bit harder before he lets go and they walk up the stairs again.   
They are welcomed back on stage with such ferocity it actually makes the mic crackle from feedback. Steve plugs in his guitar and waits for Christian to silence the crowd again.

"You want more?" he asks, wiping his face.

The applause washes over them in loud waves. Christian looks over to Steve, tilting his head in question. They had a setlist, but they didn't account for an encore.  Steve only smiles and Christian mirrors it - as it always has been, they just know what the other one's thinking.  Steve softly hits the first chord, letting it ring out, waiting patiently for Christian to start. His voice is clear as a bell and the beloved sound chases a thrill down Steve's spine.

"[I got this old TV that you left behind...](https://youtu.be/o7TWVpwk6jA?t=2m10s)"  

 


End file.
